The Order of Aurelius
by Aberjian
Summary: Angel isn't the only one to be cursed in 1898
1. Chapter 1: It Begins

The Order of Aurelius  
  
By: Aberjian  
  
Spoilers: General Buffy spoilers, All you really need to have seen is buffy s1e7 "Angel" for this chapter to make sense. More later though.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any if these characters. They all belong to the almighty Joss, I don't intend to make a profit from this. Is that enough?  
  
Summary: Angel isn't the only one to be cursed in 1898. The curse is for the whole bloodline both up and down.  
  
Ratting: R for language and violence, eventually  
  
Chapter 1: It Begins  
  
Romania 1898  
  
Angelus didn't understand what was happening. All he knew was the intense pain in his chest and the knowledge that he had to be somewhere. The invisible FORCE (he could think of it as nothing else) pulled him toward something. It did not matter what was in his path, trees, bushes, he tore though them all in an attempt to get where he was going as fast as he could. Finally he reached a clearing where a bonfire roared. He stumbled toward it and fell to his knees. As soon as he had the pain in his breast increased a hundred fold then it was gone. He felt confused and disoriented. An elderly man approached him. "It hurts, yes? It will hurt more." The old man smiled. "The faces of all you have killed, our daughters face, they will haunt you." Angelus spoke. "Killed? I...No!" "You don't remember." It was a statement not a question. "You and your entire bloodline shall suffer for eternity for what you have done." As the man spoke Angelus choked back a sob. The memories were coming back Sometimes even to fast to understand them. The torrent of images were too much and Angelus collapsed. The man spoke again, "Enjoy eternal life Angelus." With a wave of his hand the vampire known as Angelus, the scourge of europe was flung out of the clearing and hit is head on a tree forty feet away and promptly passed out.   
  
Romania 1898   
  
10 miles away  
  
William the Bloody let the body he had drained drop to the ground. He felt different, something was off. Had he sniffed the air he would have smelt the telltale smell of magic. Instead he was completely surprised as it hit him. Pain that could not be explained coursed through his veins. William dropped to his knees and howled. While two hundred feet away a dark haired female vampire who had up until that point had been watching the stars and giggling maniacally while lying on the dew covered grass also felt the indescribable pain before rolling onto her side and whimpering like a small child.   
  
Romania 1898   
  
A small cottage   
  
Darla knew what was coming, she had felt it happening to her childe. The pain hit her just as she raised the stake over her own heart. She hit the ground hard, the wooden stake clattering harmlessly away. A single tear fell from her still open blue eyes.  
  
London 1898   
  
In the damp sewer tunnels the Master toppled over in his great wooden throne. his servants rushed to his side from all corners of the room. They tried to help him to his feet but he pushed them angrily away. "The audacity of these humans, he thought that dared to restore my soul?" Heinrich Josef Nest growled deep in his throat. "They will pay, they will all pay!" 


	2. Chapter 2: Steps are Taken

The Order of Aurelius  
  
By: Aberjian  
  
Spoilers: General Buffy spoilers, All you really need to have seen is buffy s1e7 "Angel" for this chapter to make sense. More later though.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any if these characters. They all belong to the almighty Joss, I don't intend to make a profit from this. Is that enough?  
  
Summary: Angel isn't the only one to be cursed in 1898. The curse is for the whole bloodline both up and down.  
  
Ratting: R for language and violence, eventually  
  
This Episode: The Master hatches his plot to destroy the gypsies that cursed him, meanwhile someone close to him plots revenge.   
  
Chapter 2: Steps are Taken  
  
Romania 1898  
  
The dawn filtered through the thick Romanian woods. Angelus moaned and stirred before bolting upright as his left hand caught fire. He ran toward the bonfire that by this time was burnt out and blackened. Quickly grabbing a wooden plank from the fire he went to work digging himself a grave to shield himself from the daylight, his enhanced vampire strength making his progress swift. When it was deep enough for him to fit he leapt into the hole and began to fill it in with dirt. He would have to spend the day here providing his family did not come looking for him bearing heavy blankets. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of worms in the earth and the voices that accused him of being a monster and the faces that accompanied them.  
  
10 miles away  
  
The three vampires huddled together on the large four poster bed. None were sleeping though. "What of Angelus, then? Is he still alive?" Spike asked Darla. "Yes, he lives, I feel him near and his soul has been restored to him just as ours have." Drusilla just begins to sob once more. Darla continues, "Once the sun sets we will go and collect him." Spike frowns, "What then?" He asks. "We will return to England and The Master, he will help us." Drusilla just sobs louder. "Damn it Dru, be quiet!" Darla yelled. Then in a lower voice said, "I know it may be hard but we have to try to get some rest, we have a long journey ahead of us." And with that there was silence.  
  
London  
  
Vampires are social creatures by nature. (Excluding humans and most demons of course) So when a master vampire is angry and stops interacting with his or her followers they become scared. That was what was happening now. The Master's minions weren't used to the silence that came with a brooding Master. Usually when he was mad the minions closest to him paid the price. This time however was different. After recovering himself and replacing his upturned throne he issued one command. "Marcus," he said in a cold voice that scared the poor minion more that if he and bellowed it, "have every vampire here that is of my bloodline rounded up and put into the lower dungeon, I will be down shortly. Take some of your children with you to help. If they struggle then by all means knock them unconscious, but do not permanently cripple or kill any of them, do I make myself clear?" "Yes master." Marcus said with a quick bow left to do as ordered.  
  
Oxford, England 1884   
  
Marcus was twenty four years old. Born in London into a well to do family he had attended Oxford. Then one year while traveling home for Christmas holiday of his fourth year his coach was stopped along the road. He had grabbed his dueling pistol and exited the carriage. He expected highwaymen to be trying to rob them, but what he found chilled him to the soul. The horses were frightened and bucking wildly against their harnesses. The horrible thing however was the man who held his driver by the shoulders while greedily sucking from his neck. Marcus cocked his pistol. The Presumed highwaymen jerked his head up and locked eyes with him. Marcus yelped and took a stumbling step back landing right on his backside. His eyes were yellow! They seemed to glow in the near darkness. The oil lamp that hung by the roof of the carriage cast strange shadows along the mans forehead and nose. Not letting the shock of what he was seeing distract him for long Marcus pulled the pistol's trigger. The large wad of powder and iron hit the killer right in the stomach. Marcus watched in wide eyed horror as the man didn't drop like a human should have. Instead the demon roared like an enraged jungle cat and charged him. With a snarl he hauled Marcus up by the throat and slammed him one handed into the side wall of the coach. Marcus dropped his now useless pistol to the ground and grabbing the demon's arm tried to pry it loose. It was like trying to bend an iron rod. The demon laughed at his pathetic attempts to free himself. Then it violently grabbed Marcus's hair, whipped his head to the side, and plunged it's ivory white fangs into his neck. Marcus screamed into the night until eventually thing began to get foggy and he passed out from bloodloss. The vampire continued to feed before doping the body to the ground. The last thing the Marcus heard was the creature's ragged voice it said two words "You'll do."  
  
London 1898  
  
Fourteen years later and here he was, a slave to a master vampire that was not his sire. It had been ten years since The Master and his minions had raided and destroyed his nest and after killing their sire in front of their very eyes taken Marcus and a few other of the youngest and weakest vampires to the do the jobs that the lowest minion of The Order of Aurelius would not do. Marcus took an unneeded deep breath and sighed. He hated The Master but at the same time felt terror at the mere thought of speaking his mind. He did not know what had happened but there was something he did know. All of the whimpering vampires that littered the sides of the tunnel complex were descendants of The Master, he was sure of it. Maybe now was the time to make his move. Smiling he grabbed the first vampire he came to under the arms, and whistling at jaunty tune began dragging it down the tunnel toward the lower dungeon.  
  
The Master continued to sit on his throne silently staring at a spot on the moldy old walls of the sewer tunnel. In truth he was seeing someone or something very far away. A cruel smile touched his lips. "Soon," his low voice rumbled, "very soon." 


End file.
